


oh isn't this just nice

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:47:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis, Zayn and Liam decide to take a gap year out in Ireland. Louis stumbles into a cafe with a hangover and meets a very pretty boy named Harry. Niall kind of watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh isn't this just nice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveLarryLoveNiam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveLarryLoveNiam/gifts).



 

 

It's pouring when Louis wakes up. There's a window open that's letting in a chill that's a little _too_ cold which only made him pull the covers even further up his body until they reached his nose. He was exhausted to say the least, what with being slightly (very) hungover from the damned party Zayn just had to have the night before. And yeah, how did Liam even agree to having one? He was the last to agree on anything that involved weed and alcohol. 

 

But then again, Louis had found his best mates doing shots in a circle of people when Louis came back in from trying to kick a football onto the roof with Dylan, some kid that worked at a hardware store in town. 

 

And honestly, this wasn't the first party that the three of them had held this year; last month it had actually been Louis' idea to have a party for no particular reason. And Louis would immediately deny the fact that the police fined them when they arrived due to noise complaints from the neighbors. 

 

He rolled over onto his back and flung his arm out to the thankfully empty and thankfully cold spot next to him. He didn't need another awkward encounter with some guy that he'd fucked the night before. But he would be making Zayn clean up any mess that was leftover considering A, it was his idea, and B, he was the one that labeled it _open invite._

 

Ok, maybe Louis had found a few too many bras and knickers when he was heading to their kitchen to make tea once and now he had a bit of a fear of stepping on a pair again, but he wouldn't admit that. And not to mention that one time Liam was passed out halfway under a couch cushion with some girl's blouse on and Louis' own favorite pair of jeans. 

 

Liam got a right slap upside the head when he woke up. 

 

After his bout of reminiscing, Louis sat up with a groan and a string of _fuckfuckfuck,_ swung his legs onto the floor and headed into the en suite bathroom. He waited a full five minutes before stepping into the shower, making sure that the water was so hot it could peel at his skin. 

 

He kept his eyes closed and breathed in the shampoo's scent-a bit minty but fruity. He managed to keep himself in the shower for a good twenty minutes before he started to get a little claustrophobic and stuffy. And that feeling didn't really change when he stepped out of the shower and back into his room, changed, and stood by the window to get some air. 

 

So he decided that the rain was actually really welcoming. He'd go out for the day. Despite living in the cottage for the past six months with his two closest friends, you could only last so long with the entertainment you had, and Louis was starting to get a little stir crazy. 

 

He found Zayn with his forehead pressed against the cool granite countertop when he entered the kitchen, and Liam was on the couch with a pillow over his head.

 

"He dead?" Louis nodded towards Liam.

 

Zayn groaned, but actually made an effort to look at Louis. "Nah. He woke up an hour ago and got sick, been passed out since."

 

"Well that's what happens when you two compete to see how many shots of bourbon you can down before gagging." He shrugged, reaching out to pat Zayn's shoulder. "On that note, I'm heading out."

 

Zayn looked up. "Where?" 

 

"Out. And I'm not taking you with me."

 

Zayn groaned again. "I wasn't going to ask you to take me." 

 

Louis shook his head and turned towards the door. "Bye!"

 

"Wait!" 

 

_"What?"_

 

"Do we have any paracetamol?"

 

Louis gave him a flat look then headed down the hall, slamming the cottage door behind him. 

 

He tugged his jacket into himself, trying to get away from the biting rain. It had died down slightly, yeah, but Louis didn't really care. He just needed to get out, he needed air. The town was surprisingly bustling despite the rain, the small diner between a bookstore and a small pharmacy that Louis had acquainted himself with was packed from the looks of it. 

 

He nodded a few good mornings to passersby, and eventually found himself hovering outside the front doors of a cafe. Louis pulled open the heavy door and was immediately greeted with the overwhelming smell of coffee beans and sugary syrups. There was also a display of baked goods and breakfast sandwiches that looked _heavenly_ at this hour, so he opted for one of those.

 

A blonde boy wearing a white apron was wiping down a table when the bell above the door rang. 

 

"Oi, Harry!"  

 

"He'll be right out, mate," he grinned. 

 

Louis mumbled his thanks and headed to the counter. There was some bustling, but a tall boy came through the swinging doors a minute later and _shit._ Shit. This boy was… _pretty._ Was that even allowed? Are you even allowed to call a boy pretty, because this was the first and only thing that was coming into Louis' hungover mind. Besides immediately wanting to kiss his pink lips.

 

"Hi," the boy grinned, and _fuck_ this kid's voice was deep. Like a sexy, warm, homely deep. "Ready to order?"

 

Louis coughed. "Uh-yeah, right. Black coffee, sugar, and one of those bacon and egg sandwiches." He tried to not look him directly in the eye because they were just so green and Louis felt like he was shrinking. And he was giving Louis a smile that made him feel like he was the most important person in the world.

 

Yes, he was going to take a loopy dimpled smile and make it his own. Sue him. 

 

"Right, so black coffee, sugar, and one breakfast gouda sandwich-"

 

 _"Ooh,_ Harry," the blonde kid sing-songed. "Look at that face! _It must be true looove!"_

 

He cackled loudly, and the boy-Harry-threw an empty paper cup at him. "Niall, fuck off! You're embarrassing the poor guy!"

 

"Nah, I'm embarrassing _you!"_

 

"Forget it," Louis sighed. "I'm fine. I'm not fazed really, just hungover. Like, woozy hungover and- _shit._ I didn't actually mean to say that I-"

 

Harry shook his hand. "Woah, calm down…are-are you gonna be sick?"

 

"I don't-no, I'm not…" He took a deep breath. "I just need to sit."

 

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "G'head, I'll bring your stuff over."

 

Louis thanked him and proceeded to flop onto a love seat that was situated on one side of an oval coffee table. He pressed his forearms over his eyes as he tried to block out any form of noise or light for that matter. There were unsteady footsteps and a gentle _clunk_ against the coffee table. 

 

"There you go, tuck in."

 

Louis peeked through his arms and saw Harry sitting across from him on a chair he'd pulled over.

 

"Don't you have to work," he asked.

 

Harry shrugged. "Not like there are many people here right now. They all head to the diner for the time being, come here afterward. I've got a while. Plus, Niall's covering for me for a few minutes-"

 

"No I'm not," he shouted from the back.

 

"You don't have to sit here all worried acting as if I'm about to keel over. You've only just met me, Harry, and quite frankly you shouldn't be so nervous. I'm hungover on my own doing, I wasn't drugged, and I _promise_ I'm not gonna throw up. Hell, I'm not even as bad as me mates. One was practically dead on the counter this morning and the other was sleeping with a pillow over his damn face."

 

"Yeah, I know…I mean, I don't know, but I just wanna make sure you're alright. Do you want anything else? Some aspirin? A blanket?"

 

Louis cocked a brow. "You have blankets? In a coffee shop?"

 

"You never know when you need a power nap," Harry informed with a lopsided grin.

 

And honestly, Louis didn't get that. "You work in a _coffee shop._ Why the fuck would you need a power nap when you work around caffeine all day? Wouldn't you just knock back a shot of that? Not to mention baristas are probably high off the scent, and judging by your mate over there, he's too happy-go-lucky for that to _not_ be true."

 

Harry let his smile fade into a gentle one. "You talk a lot."

 

"And for a kid that works in a coffee shop, you really don't."

 

"It's the drawl. I really _pull_ out my words."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. 

 

"Will you at least eat so you don't wind up vomiting from being faint?"

 

He obliged, and much to his protesting, Harry actually sat and watched Louis the entire time. It didn't annoy him, honestly, but he did feel a little odd having someone sit and make sure he didn't get sick everywhere. He's been drunk a lot, which resulted in countless hangovers. Louis could deal with being sick.

 

"So…" Harry stretched back in his chair and _God_ how did he manage to do that? His jeans were so damn tight, they looked painted. "The only two Brits in the small village of Mullingar, huh?"

 

Louis shook his head. "No," he informed blowing on his coffee. "my friends, Liam and Zayn, British as well. We're just taking a gap year before going back to uni. We all pitched in and rented a cottage for the year. It's quaint, I like it." 

 

"Niall lives here, actually, and I just started uni in the next town over. He and I share a flat."

 

They were quiet once again, the only sounds coming from a coffee grinder and Niall's irritating singing that was so off key it had to be on purpose. The bell by the front entrance rang again, and an elderly couple came in.

 

"Excuse me, I need to go slap my coworker." 

 

Louis grunted. He actually stayed at the shop for the remainder of the day without realizing it and fell asleep, only to be woken up by Harry at a quarter to eight.

 

"You've been asleep for about five hours. We're closing up soon." 

 

Louis sighed. "I could be a homeless, drug-addicted pervert and you let me sleep on a couch in a small cafe for that long?"

 

"Not many people came in," he shrugged. "And no one exactly questioned it, you're pretty pale."

 

"What if your boss came in and saw that?"

 

"What, it's not like we were having sex!" Harry threw his hands up like it was nothing, and Louis' stomach drops. "I'm just trying to help you out, rather have you stumble into oncoming traffic."

 

"Right, yeah…" Louis stood-with Harry's help-and adjusted himself. "I'm gonna head home. But thank you for letting my kip out here."

 

Louis left, but not without a bag of pastries and another cup of tea. What was with this kid? He was insistent, and charming, and he was incredibly pretty. _Prettyprettypretty,_ was all Louis could think of. And he may or may not have fantasized about Harry being his own Prince Charming.

 

Hell, what did he know? Harry might not even be gay! He could be straight as a ruler, and Louis would still embarrass himself. 

 

He sighed. Screw it.

 

* 

 

Louis spent almost every day with Harry (and Niall) to the point where his usual seat became the spot on the counter next to one of the coffee grinders behind the main counter. Niall, Louis had learned, liked to bring out his guitar whenever they weren't busy. 

 

Of course Niall mainly played love songs to the two of them, and Louis would kick him in protest, then Harry would laugh and Niall would complain because he had nothing better to do. 

 

"So, I don't think I've ever asked you this before." Harry was leaning up against the counter across from Louis.

 

_Yes, I'm gay._

 

"Why Mullingar?"

 

 _Oh._ "Oh. What do you mean?"

 

"Out of all the places you and your friends could have spent a gap-year, why here? Why in one of the most random places in all of Ireland? Out of all of Europe. You could have gone to Italy, or Wales."

 

Louis gave him a look.

 

"Right, so maybe not Wales."

 

"We kind of just picked something out of a hat, in a way. We were kind of drunk."

 

Harry smirked. "You drink a lot, you and your friends."

 

"Yeah…" Louis didn't really have an explanation for that. "Speaking of which…We're actually having a few people come around tomorrow night. I wanted to know if you and Niall wanted to come around."

 

He smiled. "Yeah. I think we can, I'm not sure we have much to do. Laundry that can easily be done tomorrow morning"

 

"So you'll come?"

 

"Yeah, wouldn't miss it!"

 

Louis didn't go home that night and start jumping up and down like a child. He didn't.

 

*

 

"Liam!"

 

_"What?"_

 

Louis stomped into the lounge with a distressed look on his face. "I don't know what to wear," he whined. 

 

"Lou, we're just having some friends come round, and the only other person is Sophia. It's not like you're going on a date."

 

He made a face.

 

"Wait. Are you?"

 

"No. But I may have metaphorically invited two metaphorical people."

 

"And who might these 'metaphorical' people be, Louis?"

 

"Two guys from the cafe in town."

 

Liam crossed his arms and made a realizing face. "Oh, the guy you like and the blonde kid, right? That's why you're nervous."

 

"Yeah, and I don't want to get piss drunk and wind up screeching out that I'm gay when he could very possibly be straight."

 

"It's Harry, right? Just wear your blue button-up over a graphic tee."

 

"Yeah. Ok, cool." He took a deep breath. "Also, I may have metaphorically used your metaphorical debit card for metaphorical beer."

 

And on that note, he ran out of the room before Liam could even attempt to strangle him.

 

Louis gave himself exactly forty minutes to get himself together. He opted out of Liam's idea and just went straight for a stupid graphic tee with a stupid hedgehog with sunglasses riding a stupid skateboard and a denim jacket over it. If he was too sweaty, he had laid out a few more tees on his bed. 

 

He was fixing his hair when the doorbell rang and no he didn't flip out.

 

There was the ever present, ever loud voice of Niall Horan that came echoing through the small home and if Louis could take a guess, he would be getting very drunk, very quickly. And he was right on board.

 

Harry spotted him the minute he entered the kitchen, and Louis was only slightly surprised by the tight hug he was given.

 

"Hi," Harry whispered, and it was so delicate Louis thought he was going to melt right then and there. 

 

"Evening. Ready for a night of drinking?"

 

"I'm sure I am."

 

As always, more people showed up than originally planned. Someone started blasting music and the lights were dimmed and it also started to get a bit smoky which was part cigarettes, part someone burning something in the oven.

 

Louis knew he was gonna get drunk the minute he woke up this morning, telling himself that with all his willpower he needed to take it easy. But that didn't last long, because at a quarter to midnight he was struggling to stay awake as his mind clouded over.

 

"Hey, Lou!" He turned sharply to see Zayn. "I think there's something wrong with Harry," he shouted. 

 

"What do you mean?"

 

He nodded towards the corner of the room where Harry was leaning against the kitchen counter with a disgruntled look. He had his chin resting on his fist and a bottle of beer in his hand. 

 

"He just looks pissed. And not as if he's drunk," Zayn shrugged. 

 

"I'm gonna go see what's up with him."

 

Louis maneuvered himself through the crowd of terribly-dancing people to Harry. As he got closer, he noticed that the boy's eyes were clouded over in deep thought.

 

"Harry. Y'alright?"

 

He blinked a few times, coming to focus on Louis.

 

"Oh. Louis! Yeah, there you are. I'm really mad at you?" It was a question.

 

Louis blinked. "'Kay…why? I haven't done anything, right? I didn't insult you…?"

 

"No." Harry shook his head like a child and looked even more like one with his curls flopping everywhere. "No, no, no. I'm mad at _you."_

 

"This is getting ridiculous, Harry. Why are you mad at me?"

 

He let out a long and exasperated sigh. "Because I like you, and your face, and your eyes and your stupid hedgehog-" he poked Louis' chest. "-and you're really pretty. A-and Louis I wanna kiss you."

 

His stomach dropped. Harry wanted to kiss him. Wait, no. _Drunk_ Harry wanted to kiss him. And as much as he so desperately wanted to kiss him as well, he was a little more sober.

 

"Harry, you're drunk. You're delusional, and you don't know what you're saying. You don't wanna kiss me. Just, come on, let's get you some water."

 

"No! I've liked you since I first saw you and-and I don't know what to do." Harry started crying, and Louis was absolutely stunned. "Can-can we just go lay down? No sex or anything…I just wanna sleep."

 

"Yeah, ok, come on."

 

He guided Harry into his room and helped him lay down. He stood reluctantly until Harry reached his hand out for him.

 

"Please stay with me? Just hold me…"

 

And so Louis did. He kept Harry secure on his chest with his fingers running through his curls just as Harry sighed.

 

"I don't handle alcohol well," he said.

 

"I can see that."

 

"I didn't want to tell you that I don't drink a lot because I didn't want you to think  I was lame? Y'know? I wanted you to really like me…and I wanna just shut up now."

 

Louis couldn't help but laugh. "Listen, H. I walked into the cafe the first day with a goddamn hangover and you took care of me. Now it's my turn to take care of you because you'll most likely have one in the morning. Just stay here tonight, I won't leave you, sound good?"

 

Harry nodded against his chest. "Louis…? I do really wanna kiss you," he slurred. 

 

Louis wanted to say no. He wanted to say no so badly just so that there could be a better time to present this whole situation. But Harry's voice was so soft, and he was so soft in his features as well. He couldn't exactly pass this up, because this boy, this beautiful, beautiful human being looked so snuggly and tired and just…prone to everything foolish in the world. Louis wanted to protect him and give Harry everything he'd ever wanted.

 

"Ok." 

 

Harry sat up slowly and steadied himself. He stared at Louis' lips for a moment which only made Louis slightly nervous, then just kissed him. There was nothing magical like sparks and fireworks and romantic music, just them. The presence of lips touching and warmth spreading through Louis' body along with the unrhythmic  flipping of his stomach. 

 

Eventually, Harry pulled away and whispered _thank you,_ resuming to lay on Louis' chest with a contented sigh.

 

"Sleep well, Harry."

 

Louis did wind up nursing Harry's hangover the next morning. He gave him a cool compress, played with his curls and snuggled him. There was an occasional kiss or two, and Louis didn't find any random garments laying around the cottage. 

 

He sent Harry off late in the afternoon after being completely sure that he wasn't going to be sick on his shoes while heading home. Louis, at one point, had seen Harry half naked as he changed his shirt into one of Liam's since it was much bigger than anything than Louis himself owned. 

 

"Are you two dating?" 

 

Louis was sitting in the kitchen trying not to think too much about Harry and his tattooed chest and sweaty skin when Sophia walked in. Was he making this out like they had sex?

 

"Who?" he asked with slight shock.

 

"That kid that just left. Harry?"

 

Louis shook his head. "No. _No,_ he's just a close friend," he announced. "We didn't exactly do amazing last night so he stayed over. And he was pretty sick this morning so."

 

Sophia arched a brow. "And nothing happened between the two of you?"

 

"No! Soph, we're fine, nothing happened," he huffed. "What makes you so stubborn about this, honestly?"

 

"I don't know, maybe the way he was staring at you when he left? He had such a warm and loving look in his eyes, and Liam's said you've been heading to that cafe most days than not. So the fact that the two of you were cuddled up all night could put the idea in someone's mind that the two of you have actually been dating-"

 

"Oh my _god!_ Will you shut up? Harry and I are not dating, and as beautiful as he is, we kissed once, it was last night and he was drunk!"

 

She gripped his shoulders tightly. "You like someone, Louis. Admit it. Because for as long as I've known you, you haven't exactly been one to truly admit your feelings."

 

_Shit._

 

*

 

Louis normally woke up, showered and dressed then headed into town to see Harry and Niall. He decided that Harry wouldn't be at work the day after his hangover and used that as his excuse whenever someone asked. The day after he slept in, stating he was just tired when Zayn came in to see if he wanted to go to breakfast. 

 

After about two weeks, Louis began to run out of ideas, and Harry had begun to run out of patience and possibly hope.

 

He'd gotten at least a hundred texts in the span of fourteen days from Harry alone, along with twenty-eight missed calls. 

 

**_Hey, you didn't come in today. are you alright?_ **

 

**_I didn't scare ya right?_ **

 

**_Half price tea today! I've got a cup made for you and a batch of brownies._ **

 

**_Louis, I'm really concerned now. If you're actually ok, can you text me back? or call, i'd like to hear your voice._ **

 

And a few from Niall:

 

**_OI! mate has is flippin out where u been?_ **

 

**_looouuuiiiissss he won't shut up, i'm gonna hav ta shoot him_ **

 

**_do u wanna grab lunch and explain y ur not answering us or m i gonna have 2 hunt u down?_ **

 

Niall and his fucking text talk. Louis was honestly surprised that he knew what he was talking about half the time. He'd read every single message he'd received but didn't delete any. He kept his phone on _Do Not Disturb_ most of the time, now, only really checking it once or twice a day. 

 

Louis fell into reading. It became a bit of a drugged hobby of his. He read four books over another two and a half weeks, all of them over three hundred pages, so for Louis, that was a personal achievement. Whenever he was asked if he wanted to go out for a drink, or to a film, he would just shrug and say he was busy.

 

Whenever he went into town, Louis would avoid the entire block in which the cafe was located on. If he was in desperate need for a good brew, he'd head to the teenager-infested Starbucks two blocks over on a corner next door to a boutique.

 

Zayn was basically having none of it. Which was completely evident because when he walked in from work one night-he'd picked up a part-time job at the rec center helping with the arts club-and saw Louis sprawled out on the couch reading _Of Mice and Men,_ he plucked it from Louis' grasp and tossed it across the room.

 

"The hell, mate!?"

 

"I've had enough of this bullshit, we're going out."

 

*

 

"What's wrong with you?"

 

By "out" Zayn hadn't really meant anything special. Louis found himself sitting in a creaky booth across from Zayn with a cup of boiling tea and a plate of waffles between them in a rickety old diner. It was a little cold, which caused a shiver to be permanent in his spine throughout dinner. That, or the pissed and interrogating look Zayn was giving him through the dim-lit booth.

 

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, and hungry, and quite frankly a little pissed that you confiscated my books when I was getting my shoes on and stuffed them somewhere."

 

"They're behind the furnace in my room."

 

_"Zayn!"_

 

"Shut up, Louis. It's for your own good. You are not a shy, geeky kid who's desperately in love with the indie burnout and can't begin to explain why. You're Louis fucking Tomlinson, funny, outgoing guy with a broad personality and has now holed himself up in the cottage that he and two of his best friends decided to rent out for the year, doing nothing but reading books."

 

He shied down into his seat.

 

"Really, Lou. The last time I saw you like this-reading books and doing not much else-was when you caught Ellis cheating on you and you denied being affected by it. And then when we graduated last year you fucking hopped up on your chair at the bar we were at and said 'Let's go to Ireland' and the two of us fucking agreed."

 

"Because you're shit friends who actually love me-"

 

"We love you, yes, but Li and I get concerned when we see you all…well, I dunno."

 

Louis huffed. "Fine," he grunted. "Wanna know why I said we should come here? Why we should take a gap year? Because I had just gotten out of a two and a half year relationship, which included five months of my partner cheating on me with some slag. I needed to get out of Doncaster and go away somewhere. Anywhere. And now we're here, and I fucking love it."

 

"Maybe you only love it because of Harry."

 

"I do _not_ only love it for Harry! I love it because of the scenery. I love it because of the people. I love it because of you and Liam and the reckless bullshit that we put each other through. I love it because it's quaint and different.

 

"I don't love Mullingar _just_ for Harry! I love Harry for a whole other reason. I love him because he's smart, and kind, and quirky, and knows how to take care of someone and make them smile and-…you're smirking."

 

Zayn crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes I am. Because you've just admitted to loving Harry."

 

"N-no! No I didn't, I didn't just-"

 

"Louis, _stop._ Let me talk. I'm proud of you for admitting your feelings towards someone, because that doesn't exactly happen too often with you. Especially after Ellis, even before. But this is great!"

 

"I haven't even known him for that long, Zayn! I could be lying to myself or something!"

 

"Well, this time I don't think you are."

 

Louis groaned. Of course he didn't, Zayn knew what he said when he said it. 

 

"So what should I do," he asked after a moment.

 

Zayn cocked his head to the side and butted his chin out. "What do you think?"

 

"…That I should go talk to Harry."

 

"Right."

 

"So…like now, or later?"

 

"Louis, get off your big bum and go see him, goddammit. That kid won't give up too easy."

 

"He's gonna kill me," Louis muttered.

 

"Yeah? And if he does, then it's your own fault. Go talk to him. Make amends."

 

He had to contemplate everything for a minute. He could go and see Harry and find him angrier than when he was drunk, explain everything to him, and see if they could fix their relationship, or he could go and get slapped in the face.

 

Or not go at all and get punched by Zayn, so that was a threat either way.

 

*

 

Just his luck, Louis was walking through the freezing cold at eight forty-five at night, and there was a crisp bit of air that stuck to his cheeks. Late November, and if Louis was leaning the right way, he'd say it was going to snow soon. 

 

He arrives at the door to the cafe, and by what he can see, it's just about closing time. Niall's not there-there's an apron hanging up by the kitchen door. Harry's back is to the windows as he mops the floor, and Louis takes it as his opportunity to hop in. He swings the door open, hearing the familiar sound of chimes which alarms Harry.

 

"We're closed," he says grumpily, and that's not a common tone.

 

"Spare a dime for a quick chat?"

 

Harry spun around with eyes wide as saucers, but they immediately shrunk back down.

 

"Do you honestly think you deserve that," he retorted.

 

"No. But I think you do." He rocked back and forth on his feet. "You deserve an explanation as to why I was a total arse to you, and ignored you _and_ Niall and just opted to not come around anymore."

 

"Well have at it then. I'll give you two minutes," he said and went back to mopping.

 

"No. If we're doing this, we're going to do this properly." 

 

Louis sped past Harry and turned behind the counter, grabbing a kettle, filling it, and turning the stove on.  

 

"You've gotta pay for that." 

 

Louis stopped and placed the mug he was holding down onto the counter.

 

"Fine." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a five pound note. "There. For my cup and any refills I might endure."

 

He made two cups, one for him and one for Harry, then proceeded to pull the mop from his hands and placed it back into the bucket.

 

"Sit, Harry. Let me explain everything." 

 

Harry did with a huff. He wrung his hands tightly around the hot green mug and coaxed Louis to begin.

 

"I'm not good with any of this," he explained. "I'm really just…lost. The reason Zayn, Liam and I moved out here was because I had just broken up with someone who I'd been with for over two years after I found out they had been cheating on me for a few months. After that, I refused to admit my anger about it and resulted to locking myself up and reading for as long as I possibly could.

 

"That's what happened this time." Louis took a deep breath. "Whatever happened that night when you were drunk, and you kissed me…it just changed something. I don't reveal my feelings often, _especially_ when I really and truly like someone in a romantic kinda way.

 

"Zayn stuffed my books somewhere and dragged me out to the diner so we could talk, which eventually resulted in a lot of ranting and an eventual confession of how I feel towards you."

 

They stayed very quiet. 

 

"And what would that be?" Harry sat up straight, a little bit of a glint in his eye.

 

Louis pursed his lips. "That I love you," he whispered suddenly.

 

Harry was taken aback by the announcement. His features softened and he sunk back into his seat.

 

"I'm sorry. I had to say it. You're something completely different. I'm sorry…I really am. Because I definitely scared you, and you definitely don't feel that way towards me. Or maybe you do and you just don't like me to the extend that I like you-"

 

Louis didn't finish his rambling because Harry had leaned over the table and kissed him. His hands were on his cheeks, and Louis' rapidly beating heart eventually calmed down to something of a relaxed pulse. Just like the first time, this kiss was just as amazing, and there was reluctance when they pulled away, Louis especially whimpering in protest slightly.

 

"Unfortunately," Harry continued. "I'm very trusting and I'm very forgiving, but I have a knack for knowing who'll last and who won't. You're an incredible person, Lou. Use it to your advantage."

 

"H…"

 

"I'm not gonna say what you want me to say, but I'll say this: My feelings are inexplicably strong towards you, and I don't know how to handle it. I don't know how to explain it or try and tell you in words."

 

"You can show me," Louis offered up, giving him a sheepish smile.

 

"How?"

 

"I dunno, Harry. But I don't want to go back to the bookish state I was in for a few weeks." 

 

"And you're not going to. You took care of me, I took care of you. We can take care of each other, I promise."

 

Louis nodded.

 

"And you know what? Fuck closing time. We can stay a bit longer."

 

Harry lit a fire and helped Louis turn the sofa so they stared directly into it after putting all of the curtains down. The fireplace and the light coming from the kitchen were the only things illuminating the room as they snuggled together.

 

"We should really go when the fire dies down," Harry whispered into the dark.

 

"Shh. Don't rush it."

 

They eventually head back to Louis' place and sleep the rest of the night with the door closed and locked. He knows Zayn will be itching to know what happened between the two of them, but that could wait until tomorrow. 

 

"You're very beautiful, Harry." He has his hand in the boy's curls, spinning them around his fingers until they're tight and almost stuck. Harry's hair is so soft, it's ridiculous.

 

"So are you." He nuzzles himself into Louis' neck, kissing it lightly which sent chills up his back.

 

"Please, can we just stay here until it's absolutely necessary that we have to get up? Until one of our idiot friends comes running in and attacks us?"

 

"I quite like that idea," Harry admitted. 

 

"You know, you're one of the nicest and most genuine people I've ever met, Harry. You're just sweet and your smile could probably bring world peace-that meant to be a thought, I didn't mean to say that."

 

Harry merely laughed.

 

"And, unless my statement just changed that, you're not looking to be a martyr."

 

"Who was looking to be a martyr? Seriously, I'm curious."

 

"I'm just stating it in the general term. So many guys nowadays are assholes and they seem to want to die and have a legacy live on for them. They're just full of themselves."

 

"Well, I promise that I am not one of those guys, Louis. I'm just Harry, a simple guy from Cheshire who's a bit of a mama's boy and loves kittens."

 

Louis couldn't help but snort. "I'm gonna add this on the end here, you're also a complete dork."

 

They wound up walking into the kitchen hand-in-hand the next morning, Liam attacking them into a hug and Zayn smirking from the counter. Harry invited Niall around and they all gouged in a celebratory breakfast of eggs and bacon and baked goods. It topped anything that a classic English Breakfast should be with someone's iPod playing classic rock dully in the background. 

 

Louis sat practically on top of Harry during the entirety of the meal-which lasted more or less an hour and a half-with lovey-dovey feeding to one another.

 

"I think you guys should probably stop before I gag," Niall had inputted. 

 

Louis couldn't help but blush when Harry's hand traced gentle patterns up his spine underneath his jumper, or when he kissed the back of his neck, or laughed in his ear. Harry's laugh, _god_ it was so warm and welcoming, and it was smooth like thick honey. 

 

As time went on, Louis allowed Harry to take his time with the whole "I love you" bit of the relationship, and he only said it on occasion. It wasn't something you can just spit out like "hello, how are you?" Louis knew that. And Harry's choice of response for the time being was an overly affectionate smile, a long kiss, and a lot of blushing. 

 

As for it being his gap year, Louis would figure it all out in the long run, but he definitely saw Harry in the future. And maybe he'd stay a little longer than planned.

 


End file.
